


When Blue and Yellow Don't Make Green

by gala_apples



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Vanilla Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 03:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4247277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like everyone else, Gavin is born into a black and white world. The difference is he refuses to live there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Blue and Yellow Don't Make Green

**Author's Note:**

> Short glossary, in case anything isn't clear, or you'd rather not figure it out from context:
> 
> spectrum mates - one person causes one person to see the entire colour spectrum.  
> prism mates- a person who causes another person to see one or more colours. Often splits into red/blue/yellow, but it all depends on how many loves said person has. The vast majority of the time this happens subsequently.  
> blended prism mates- polyamory.  
> achromatic blend- polyamory that's between non-mated people.  
> colourist- anyone that makes you see colour, regardless of amount of hues.

Six months into learning everything about Mr Wissel’s camera Gavin approaches the weird trophy kid. Dan, he mentally corrects. If his plan is going to work he needs to start calling him Dan. Aloud, obviously, but in his own head too. If he doesn’t keep it consistent he will absolutely muck it up at the exact wrong time. 

“I will give you five hundred quid if you lie and say we're spectrum mates and keep it up until graduation."

Dan crosses his arms over his Halo t-shirt and raises his eyebrows. "Do you have five hundred quid?"

Of all the things he thought the guy might say, doubting the finances was not on the top of Gavin’s list. "Really? I thought you'd ask why, or something."

Dan snorts. "What do I care if you don't have the funds?" 

Gavin makes a show of pulling his wallet from his pocket, and once it’s free, opening it so he can get his debit card out of its customary slot. He waggles the plastic at Dan. “If you want to walk up to the fish and chips place I can show you my bank account."

Funnily enough, it’s the exact way it goes down. They ditch the class after lunch -some literature rubbish for Gavin, who knows or cares what for Dan- and make a break for Joanie’s. There’s an ATM in the corner, right beside the machines full of quarter candy that’s at least a decade old. Gavin plugs in his password, not letting Dan see, then moves aside when the balance shows up. He has the five hundred pounds. He has more, actually. He, his brother, and his sister all have their own uni savings account of five thousand, which sounds like a lot until you actually start researching tuition and board. But he’s not going to uni, despite what his parents might think. He’s in secondary classes to appease them, only to give himself time to explain, not because he has any future drive for education. Gavin knows exactly what he wants for the future, and that is why he’s going to give Dan ten percent of his savings.

Dan nods at the number, then turns to face him. “So, why then?”

“My neighbour has been teaching me how to film in slow motion. Everyone knows you have to be full spectrum to get anywhere in the industry. I want to get _everywhere_.”

“Will you teach me?” Dan asks.

That hadn’t actually occurred to Gavin, but he likes the idea. He can totally be the genius that shows Dan the way of the Phantom. Anyway, it’ll give them something to do together besides play video games. Considering Gavin only picked Dan because he seemed the type willing to play video games for twelve hours a day, other interesting activities can only be a blessing. No one will believe they’re full spectrum if they’re not side by side for the next year and a half. Everything rides on friends family acquaintances and strangers believing Gavin’s gone rainbow. Everything.

“You can put it in our contract,” Gavin replies.

“What contract?”

“The contract where if you take my money and then don’t make it believable I’ll burn your smegging house down.”

***

Geoff grows up knowing prism love is something good people don’t talk about, an utterly taboo subject. It’s mentioned in the very vaguest of terms in senior year sex ed, and when he brings it up at the dinner table as a point of interest - _did you know that_ -, he’s shouted at, and his Dad won’t look his Mom in the eye for three days. Further attempts at bringing it up in the community get him a combo platter of _shut up, freak_ , denials that they or anyone they know are ‘like that’, and the good ole blank stare. From what Geoff can figure out it’s the prevailing Alabamian attitude; you settle down early with the first colourist you find, preferably a high school sweetheart, you enjoy the hue they give you, and pretend there’s nothing more in the world. 

He goes straight from graduation to the army, and things don’t change. Prismed love doesn’t come up in Fort Hood. Neither does full spectrum love, for that matter. Thank fuck. Geoff doesn’t know what would be worse, a spectrum mate being a fellow soldier or someone a rank above you. To be stuck beside them day in and out, or to have them be your authority. Either way it’d be impossible. Clearly a shared opinion because if there are any colourist loves triggered, no one says a goddamn thing.

Geoff doesn’t experience his first taste of prismed love until he’s working at TeleNetwork. As it turns out, Burnie’s a multi-colourist. Despite what Geoff’s childhood attempted to indoctrinate in him, that’s normal. A good percentage of society does have more than one love over seventy plus years of life. Burnie’s an extreme though. He’s got at least six loves. He knows because his wife is purple and Gus is orange. And the quantity isn’t even the weird part. The weird part is that Gus makes Burnie see shades of orange and Gus still sees in black and white.

They make it work though. There’s an intimacy there. A friendship that’s so very two-sided that it seems to eclipse the one sided love. And by the time the three of them start discussing doing side projects, Geoff is no longer worried about the thought that he might, one day, love in succession, not all at once.

***

Logically speaking Gavin knows it probably isn’t the smartest plan to commit to a project so ingrained with colours they’re in the title. There are a dozen different ways he could get caught, and if he does, he and Dan are both fucked. But what would be even stupider would be throwing this opportunity away. Most people don’t get the chance to throw their own talents into the thing they’ve worshipped for ages. Any karaoke star or fanfiction writer would kill for their own version of the chance he’s been given. He owes it to the world to work on Red Vs Blue.

He’s staying with the Ramseys, but Barbara’s the one to pick him up from the airport. Once hellos and hugs are done and luggage collection is the next on the list, Gavin slips in a line about how her hair looks great against her dress. He has no idea, of course, but it’s a spectrum compliment and one of a dozen things he has to do to cover his tracks. Another is having luggage like he does. Suitcases with bold patterns are for the loveless, the greysighted. It wouldn’t necessarily be suspicious- but it could be, and Gavin can’t afford that. So plain canvas it is, except for the gaudy Uk tags depicting the Thame summer festival. There’s slim to zero chance someone on the same carousel will have the same keychain, especially on a plain bag.

The Ramsey house looks friendly. It sounds stupid, but Gavin’s worked hard to teach himself the full range of visual cues outside of colour, and there are about seven hints in the exterior that Geoff and Griffon are happy and fun. Gavin mostly knew that, from all their webcam chats, but it’s different seeing proof he can also touch.

“So am I staying for dinner?” Barb asks as she helps him haul his shit to the front door.

“I’m going to try being their guest for more than literally one minute before I invite people over.”

“Fine. Carry your own shit up a flight of stairs then.” The way she kisses his cheek before turning around belays the rough words though.

The front door opens and walls explode at him. It’s such a shock it takes vital seconds for the explanation to hit. It’s like the dust cloud after the shockwave. Everything is already killed, but the long term problems have yet to settle in. The truth is that the wall is coloured. What colour Gavin can’t know; it could be plum or celedon or dusty rose -you can’t know how to label something when it’s impossible to be taught- but it’s something. It’s bright and almost flickering, like fluorescent lighting, and it’s definitely colour. 

As is everything else in the room. _Everything_. There’s no grey left, it’s all colour. The walls, and the pictures, and the couch, and Griffon’s hair, and Geoff’s lips and their tattoos and oh god oh _god_ he can tell without consulting the National Hexadecimal Board that he’s seeing everything. Either Geoff or Griffon is his spectrum mate, or both together complete his prism. The particulars don’t matter. Regardless of who’s done what, he is completely, completely fucked. 

“Hey... Gavin?” Griffon says after his stunned silence begins to stretch a little too long.

Gavin shakes his head, eyes still open, to bring himself back. A huge bloody mistake, the colours smear against his eyes and make his head throb more. “Sorry. I’ve got some mental jetlag. I know you planned a dinner but can I just lay down?”

“Sure. It is after midnight for you.”

***

As they eat dinner, Gavin’s portion wrapped in tinfoil in case he wakes up in a few hours, Geoff can’t stop glancing at the wall. It’s funny. Out of everything he’s seen tonight, the paint on his walls should be one of the least important. Gavin’s his blue. It’s absurd. He’s a guy, and he’s a decade younger and he’s not even an American citizen. Even if Geoff could allow himself to want something -someone- so obviously wrong, there’s nothing permanent about the situation. There’s no way he’s going to risk his lifestyle for something so fleeting. Prismed love as a concept is fine, but a few months of infidelity is nowhere near sequential marriage. And the only way it wouldn’t be infidelity would be if he told Griffon first which, no. Nope. There’s absolutely no upside to revealing this. It’ll hurt Griffon. It might make the lad feel preyed upon. Not to mention that he and Dan are full spectrum.

Geoff gnaws on his heavily sauced flank steak and glances at the wall again.

Divorce and remarriage is not an option. Rita gave him redscale, but he’s beyond noting each time crimson or scarlet comes into view. Griffon’s given him yellow, and Geoff’s heart beats a little faster with every goldenrod, every daisy. He will not be leaving yellow for blue. Periwinkle will not make him smile and text his lover. It’s time to fall back on childhood impressions. If he wants this marriage to last, vermilion and amber have to be the only hues he cares about.

Infidelity is not an option. Only dirtbags actively destroy their partners like that. Geoff might be a piece of shit, sure. He happens to believe the vast majority of society is, actually. Being an asshole comes with having one. But he’s not a dirtbag.

Being honest and aiming for a blended relationship is not an option. Nothing’s really prepared him for the idea of blending. Not even Burnie with his wife and Gus at the same time, because blending is more than one lover and anyone at RT’s only seen Gus’ dick as a joke. There were rumors about one of the band members Geoff roadied for having an achromatic blend, but it’s not like Christian ever talked to the peon road manager about how he dealt with loving multiple people at once. Geoff never even met the lead guitarist’s two or more significant others, despite knowing the drummer’s full spectrum husband well enough to exchange Christmas presents, and earning a nickname from the bassist’s wife.

But with all these thoughts swirling in Geoff’s head, the one floating above them all in the most prominent position is _holy shit look at all this goddamn blue!_ The living room has always looked grey, before, and now it’s a very searingly bright blue. So fucking sue him for peeking at it every two minutes.

When they’ve eaten as much as they’re going to, Geoff gathers their plates along with their silverware. The plates are white with a honey shaded edge print because the house is filled with tiny proud notes of yellow, the house is full of the ways Geoff loves her. The sink is full of haphazardly stacked plates bowls and cups, most still crusted with foods in red green and brown. But the washcloth is blue, and Geoff narrows his eyes at it before pointedly looking away.

“Can we have a reading night?”

Griffon smiles at him. Christ is she gorgeous. “Look at you and your great manners, not wanting to wake him up. How long’s that going to last?”

Geoff honestly couldn’t give less of a shit about Gavin’s sleeping patterns. He just doesn’t think he can control his reaction to shades of blue on TV now. Luckily what her gentle teasing means is yes, reading’s fine, let’s go for it. So she grabs her latest paperback, and he grabs his iPad.

Ignorance would probably be safer. He can’t accidentally call someone’s shirt turquoise if he doesn’t know that’s what that blue is. He stays up all night reading through the NHB’s colour glossary and doing their practice activities anyway. Geoff’s never let a situation dictate to him what information he can and cannot have, and he’s not about to start now.

***

Gavin’s almost relieved when his visa’s up and he has to return to Thame. It sucks, living with your mates and not being able to talk about it. Not only has he backed himself into a corner making everyone believe he and Dan bloomed full spectrum in secondary school, there’s also the prism issue. Griffon’s full spectrum, has been since the moment she met Geoff. And Geoff’s only missing blue and considering he still sees RVB as RVGrey, Gavin knows it’s not mutual on that side either. No sense in even mentioning it, if his love can’t possibly be returned.

As soon as Gavin get back he goes to Dan, goes to the Gruchy household. Gavin’s no longer paying Dan to keep their secondary school deal up, mostly because Dan needs it just as much as Gavin does. Mr and Mrs Gruchy are really intense about spectrum mates. Dan’s sister is constantly being pushed into the world; she attends colour parties the way some parents require church. They would flip out if they thought Dan thought the army was more important than fated love. They just barely understand him spending so much time apart. If it was up to Dan’s mom he’d have gotten his own visa and followed Gavin to Austin.

Gavin joins Gruchy family dinner. After that they all watch a movie, Mr Gruchy letting them take the three seater couch so Gavin can recline with his head in Dan’s lap. Yeah, it’s what Dan’s parents want. It still doesn’t feel like a show. It feels like comfort. And maybe Dan knows, through friendship or skin osmosis, that Gavin’s in need of a bit of comfort, because as soon as they retire to Dan’s room he’s being instructed to vent.

Gavin tells him. It’s the first time he’s talked about his situation. It wouldn’t have been safe through texts, too permanent. Skype or the phone wouldn't have worked either, since neither of their hosts know the first thing about privacy. Dan agrees that it sucks. Thank Christ, since he’s literally the only person Gavin can talk to about it.

“If only I could suck you off into happiness.”

“Shut up, wanker.”

“You know it’s what they think we’re doing.”

Gavin shrugs, arm sliding against Dan’s as they lay side by side. “They want a perfect domestic life for us. Can’t really blame them, can you?”

He doesn’t regret the strategy he’s employed, despite how far into the future the railwork he put down years ago goes. Gavin knows there’s no bailing from this train now. He wouldn’t even if he could. He loves his Phantom, and all the places it takes him. He just thinks about it, sometimes. About being happily in love and fighting over who gets what pillows in their king sized bed fit for three and sloppily kissing them while out for bevs. About Jack and Joel giving him shit about Geoff rather than carefully not mentioning Dan, because they’re stuck apart and Jack and Joel are assholes but they don’t want to make him sad. About posing for terrible Christmas cards composed to still look merry, even if the recipient can’t see red or green. He just...thinks about it, sometimes.

***

Soon after Gavin leaves, Geoff’s got another freeloader on his hands. Not that Geoff cares that Gavin is probably never going to pay his back-rent or that his cousin is going to pay him only in praise at the next family reunion. He’d rather stable and happy loved ones than money. And to be bluntly fucking honest, Rudy’s about three football fields away from stable right now. If freeloading until he finds another place to live makes the guy’s life better, Geoff can deal with Rudy taking the guest room. Even if he does complain that their yellow bath towels make him depressed, and do they have anything else he could use.

He’s stretched out on the couch with his forearm over his face when Geoff comes in to play videogames, the visual definition of verklempt. Geoff freezes, like a rabbit being spotted. He has precious seconds to figure out if he wants to fight this particular battle, or if it’d be easier to just tiptoe out of the room and marinate some steak or something with his time.

Unfortunately, before he can pick his own plans, Rudy senses his presence. He doesn’t open his eyes or move his arm, but all of a sudden he’s talking. If by talking Geoff means a combo platter of whining and moaning. “Geoffie, I can’t do this three more times.”

“It might not be three?”

“You’re kidding, right? Paul was yellow-orange, Vanessa was a wash with purple. I still have red, green, and blue.”

The logic is not impeccable, that’s for sure. It’s an easy thing to rebut. “Well you’re not going to break up with your last are you? And maybe you’ll have one teal person, not two.”

“The fuck do you know about teal?” Rudy mutters.

Geoff doesn’t snap that thanks to this young asshole who’s back in England he’s now seeing the blue in greens, doesn’t just see them as more yellow. Instead he tries to lighten his cousin’s mood from another angle. “Or maybe one of them will be a woman.” 

For reasons Geoff doesn’t quite get, but tries to respect, Rudy let his homosexuality prevent him from even attempting a relationship with Vanessa. If fate gives him a second female he’ll probably sadly continue to ignore his likely bisexuality to keep identifying the way he wants.

“’d be just my luck, wouldn’t it? Washing out all of my chances like that.” Rudy sighs.

The thing Geoff can’t say is _shut the fuck up, you’re irritating the piss out of me_. He’d probably be judged for even a normally neutral ‘I don’t know what to tell you’, because Rudy is the kind of guy that likes to reject a dozen brainstormed ideas, but what he really wants to say will certainly cause a blow up. As will ‘at least you still have colours to be hopeful about’. Geoff would so much rather be occasionally curious about blue but still stymied, than know the truth. Rudy can still believe that a new colourist love will be his happily ever after. Geoff knows that it can destroy a family if you let it. And that’s what he cares about most, preserving his and Griffon’s happiness.

***

It takes moving mountains and blowing up moons and Ray renouncing fast food for Gavin to be able to come back to Austin. Miracles on the order of the bloody Pope, honestly. But by some freakin grace of god Slow Mo gets famous enough to fulfill the last requirement. Not the paint exploding video that took ages to film, mostly because Gavin had to keep checking that Dan was lining the colours up correctly, or at the very least naming the bottles properly. For all the effort it took it’d be kind of nice if that was his cure-all. Instead it was the water one that pushed him to success. Whatever. The important part is he’s back, and once again living at the Ramsey’s. 

Masochistic, Dan called it. He’s probably right, it’s a dumb move. It’s not like Gavin doesn’t know it. But Geoff and Griffon are just so bloody perfect. They’re funny and hot and intelligent and have their way of insulting him that does nothing but heat him up. Usually Gavin ignores insults unless they’re from hot girls, in which case his self-esteem shrinks. The Ramseys mockery doesn’t cause either normal reaction. Being the butt of their jokes just makes him want to bare his neck and cry for mercy, maybe get on his knees a bit. He’s allowed to want whatever he wants, as long as he doesn’t fuck things up by making any sort of move.

It’s just another weekend when shit changes. Gavin’s sprawled on the couch, playing an app game when Griffon drags Geoff into the house. He’s high as fuck on nitrous, courtesy of a dentist that Gavin has never bothered to see. She deposits Geoff in the second guest room, the one not occupied, probably because stairs are too much work. When she’s done settling him or whatever she come right back into the living room, and nudges Gavin.

“You and I need to talk.”

It’s not that Griffon’s never serious. It’s just that there’s a difference between serious and _serious_ , and Griffon is the ‘the Cubans refusing to recall their missiles’ terrifying second type. “Uh. Okay?”

“I respect what you have with Dan.” That is an odd and petrifying place to start.   
“Geoff does too. I can’t imagine what it would be like to find your spectrum mate in high school. Not even part of the prism, but the whole thing.”

“It was pretty top,” Gavin manages. He’s too worried about where this is going for anything more elaborate. Sometimes Gavin doesn’t know if he should feel impressed that he pulled it off so well, or feel like a shit heel for constantly lying to everyone.

“Good. I’m glad. I am. But I just found out something that we’re gonna have to deal with.” She wouldn’t be so calm if she’s figured out he’s a liar. Would she? “Geoff’s high as a kite, and he let something slip. On the drive home he said my earrings were like feathers, and reminded him of his little boy blue.”

Griffon’s earrings are a dangly mess of woven fabric and chain and leather cord. They’re many shades of blue, though they have enough texture to interest someone still in greyscale.

“I’ve always been open to Geoff finding his last spectrum mate. More than he has, I think. But I didn’t think it’d be someone who’s already full spectrum.”

“You. He. What?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? What other younger men has he met recently?”

Gavin’s brain scrambles to point out random RT fans who visit the studio but none of that actually passes through his lips. As he stands there, frozen, Griffon smiles at him a little, and continues.

“We can’t really talk about it until he can speak without drooling, but I wanted to give you a chance to think about it. Discuss it with Dan. Just don’t freak out and blow it out of proportion, alright? It’s not like he’s going to crawl into your room and molest you. Remember, he didn’t even tell you the whole first time you were here.”

Gavin’s world is a little too inside up and outside down and exploding in his pores, like the opposite of ASMR, to consider Griffon’s placation actually helpful, thanks.

***

It’s been a tense few days. If you ask Geoff, everything’s bullshit. It’s bullshit that smashed he’s fine, can still keep a secret like a CIA member, but on anesthesia he’s a drooly little motormouth. Also bullshit, Griffon outing him. Just because she’s right about things needing to be aired doesn’t mean he’s not a bit pissy about it. Thirdly bullshit, Gavino, that little prick. It’s pretty obvious that Griffon wants him and Gavin and Dan to work something out, but Gavin’s been avoiding him like the plague. Shit, the jerkoff went home with Kerry the other day.

Geoff’s drowsy, trying to deep breathe enough before he falls asleep so that he doesn’t have a stress nightmare when the door bursts open and there stands a shadowy figure. Thank _Christ_ he hasn’t played Slender or Silent Hill recently, he doesn’t shriek like a bitch or throw a pillow at what quickly becomes obviously Gavin.

“I lied. I lied. I’ve been lying for years. Hang me for a bloody liar!”

“Uh, Gavin? Give us a sec, kay?”

“Go to the living room, we’ll be right there.”

Gavin does as Griffon bids. Geoff stands and grabs a t-shirt from the dirty laundry basket, and tosses a tank top at Griffon. They are a casual nudity family, it’s true. Even Gavin goes pantless sometimes, though not his British kind of pants. But Geoff’s got a feeling this is going to be a serious conversation and those don’t work well nude.

Gav’s pacing when they get down into the family room. He doesn’t even wait until they’re sitting before he starts rambling. “Look. The thing is, there’s repercussions. It’s not just your side of it. That’s a whole nother fuckin gaff of a thing. But at this point... I mean I don’t think Burnie or Gus or Matt would be vindictive enough to fire me, but I could get deported, and Dan would get resectioned. And the fans, AH could get so much shit. And I think Jack might break my nose.”

“For what?”

“What?”

Geoff rolls his eyes. “Repercussions, dickhead. You didn’t say what.”

“Yeah I did. I said I was a liar.”

Griffon’s more gentle with trying to focus their resident spaz, because she’s not-so-secretly a better person than Geoff is. “Even if we think we know you need to say the words.”

“Me and Dan. We’re not full spectrum. We’re not even prismed. It’s all bloody lies. But first it was the only way I could be taken seriously, and then I got certified, and Dan’s family are nutters about it, and he gets to work on a better squad because they know he won’t meet a civilian prism mate and botch it all rescuing her or him.”

Geoff helped with the visa. He knows what happens if Gavin’s film credentials are called into question. “So maintaining the lie made it easier for your tiny little brain.”

“And what reason did I have to tell the truth? It’s not like- It didn’t matter what I felt, or what colours I saw. Griffon’s full spectrum with you, and you’ve said a hundred times to creepy fans that you don’t care that you don’t have your blue.”

“Yeah, so none of them are creepy and try to hop on my dick at a con!” Geoff protests.

Griffon calls him on it. “Don’t blame the fans. You’ve always made it clear that you’re a one at a time man. You’ve said you wished you could stop seeing red.”

“Thank you! You clearly don’t want to see blue, you kept it a secret the whole time.”

“Don’t put this on me, you just said you had reasons for lying. If I’d told you in the doorway first night you still wouldn’t have said shit. Couldn’t afford to lose your Red Vs Blue contract admitting you just started seeing it.”

Griffon rolls her eyes. “You’re both responsible for making yourselves miserable. Let’s get over that. The point is figuring out what you two are going to do now.”

“Three,” Gavin answers.

“Excuse me?”

“I saw you both at the same time. I don’t know that it was Geoff who triggered full spectrum. I’ll never know. It might have been all you. But I figure it was prism between both.”

“You know I’m full on Geoff,” Griffon says slowly. Geoff knows that tone though. His beautiful wife talks like that when she’s thinking something through, whether it be what new route to take when she finds out about construction, or what her next carving might be.

“Look at Burnie and Gus. Love’s complicated.” Gavin rebutts her words, maybe not knowing Griffon well enough to read her mood and realise her intent. Geoff should feel proprietary, pleased that he knows his wife better than Gavin knows one of his roommates. He doesn’t. That lack is a sign in and of itself.

“So your best case scenario is the three of us together? Blended prism mates?” Griffon pins Gavin with her gaze, in the way that only she can. Whatever she sees there must be enough, because she twists on the couch towards him next. “And Geoff? You didn’t say no when I suggested it earlier, so I don’t think you’re saying no now. So are we going to try this?”

There are different consequences for all of them, his and Griffon’s no less real for being less official, and there’s no question that he’s scared. Stern childhood lessons might be abandoned by the intelligent brain with the introduction of a wider life, but they burrow into the hindbrain. But fate’s on their side, and Geoff trusts his relationships with both of them. It’s gotta be yes, doesn’t it?

***

Gavin’s not super into sport. Some footie, maybe. Gus likes it too, probably more than he does. Who knows how much he’d make an effort to watch if Gus didn’t make a schedule. And Geoff likes basketball. Half the office seems to like American football, and Gavin could not care less. Still, he knows a hail mary when he sees one. Griffon suggesting a few months ago that they attend a support group was easily a hail mary to make their necessarily lopsided relationship work. 

The thing is, it did work. Wednesdays can be weird, but they’re also a relief. At least if you ask Gavin. He’s pretty sure Griffon takes the advice portion of the night more seriously, and this unfortunately tinges her relief with effort. And he knows for a fact a part of Geoff still finds this sort of talk uncomfortable. But here they are, Wednesday night, spread across Ramon and Aiyana’s lawn chairs because the deck’s built in seating is already taken by earlier comers to the group. Usually they’re not as late, but a light doze after sex turned into a full blown nap after sex, then frantic rushing to get out of the house. 

Ramon’s easily the most insane in the Group For Complicated Spectrums, considering he believes Aiyana makes him see colours that aren’t on the hexidecimal code, but he makes excellent barbeque and the grill is going now, plumes of sweet smoke rising each time he opens the lid. Appetite alone is enough reason to attend this week. Not to mention next Wednesday. Next week Paxton and Meyer are hosting. Meyer‘s a goddamn pastry chef. Gavin has plans to feed his girlfriend and boyfriend only pie all evening. Apple with ice cream and cherry with pineapple and pecan with whipped cream. It’ll be wholesome and sweet and _very_ datey, everything he can’t always have and only loves it all the more for its lack.

Because really, that’s the draw for Gavin. Today, around one, a visiting fan said she was sorry he’s so far from Dan and the rest of the afternoon the guys were kind of quiet. Even Geoff had to pretend to be. The Ramesys agreed with him on that much, the more people who know the more chance for someone to fuck up. It can be edited out of a video, and erased, but not from a Podcast or a convention conversation. Here it’s different. At support group, he and Griffon and Geoff can be happily blended spectrum mates. 

They’re not even the weirdest arrangement. Franz and Marina found each other when he was twenty five and she was sixteen. Paxton and Meyer’s parents married each other on a whim because they were prism mates. It wasn’t until the Harrisons came home from their weekend work conference that they all realised the newly minted step-siblings were spectrummates. Reggie has the same problem that Gavin did. He saw Amethyst and Kester at the same time, the women being best friends but achromatic with each other. At least he and the Ramseys have multiple prismic connections between them, despite Gavin’s being undefined. Reggie might see red and blue now, but Amethyst and Kester are both still greyscale, despite claiming to love him and each other. 

“Eat this!” 

The words come significantly later than the forkful of orange zest salad stuffed halfway into his gob. Thankfully Gavin has a chewing instinct, so he doesn’t bloody choke, despite the delay. And then he takes the fork from Geoff’s hand and continues to eat the salad off the older man’s plate. And _then_ he kisses him, because they’re in Aiyana’s backyard, and he can be ridiculously domestic here, if he wants. And Gavin does.

***

There are about a dozen things Geoff is used to seeing when he and Gavin get home from work. A partially finished carving is pretty close to the top of the list. So’s a platter of mixed drinks. Generally speaking though, even if it’s something unexpected it’s usually great. Griffon doesn’t have a lot of bad ideas. 

Today, for example. Geoff didn’t expect to arrive home to see his wife surrounded by marital toys, but what’s he going to do? Object? She’s beautiful and naked and there’s a long and wide double ended dildo in her hand. If any spouse ever says no to that they should immediately get divorced. And it’s not just a dildo. There are toys scattered all over her side of the bed. Geoff knows there’s a buttplug before he sees it in all its rainbow glory because Gavin has gleefully gasped and that’s always been his favourite toy.

“Any special occasion for buying what looks like two hundred bucks of gear?”

Because seriously, it’s pretty obvious Griffon’s been shopping in the spectrum section of the adult toy store. All of their old toys were black grey or white. It’s the way the industry works, that you don’t need porn or kink if you’re with your spectrum mate. Unless of course you’re both perverts together. Thanks to that viewpoint, toys don’t come in individual hues. It’s either loveless greyscale or rainbow gradient. Griffon’s obviously decided it’s time to flip to the other side. Fine with Geoff. Exotic orgasms aside, her throwing that much money down proves how strongly she believes in what they all share. It’d sound silly to anyone he might talk to about it, but these sex toys prove how great his marriage is.

“Not that it’s not great, love,” Gavin adds.

“Idiot husband,” Griffon says fondly. “A year ago you had dental surgery and called Gavin your... what was it?”

“Little boy blue,” Gavin supplies with a smirk. It’s been long enough that the once dangerous words that changed their dynamic have become a joke.

“You count that as our anniversary? What about a week later when we actually agreed to being blended spectrum mates?”

Griffon shrugs, rolling shoulders making a stunning display of her breasts. “I guess you’ll just have to take me out for another dinner next week.”

Geoff laughs. It's actually pretty damn clever of her to give them this pre-event warning. It’s a reminder for Geoff to plan something, because Gavin won’t. He’s literally the worst at effort.

“Sounds perfect.”

“We will, for sure,” Gavin says dismissively. “Now can I take off my kit or...?”

“Last colourist to the bed doesn’t get to pick a toy!” Griffon calls out.

Geoff smirks at Gavin. It’s _on_ , now.


End file.
